Swan and the Stripper
by ibuypeetasbread
Summary: Emma Swan has just been dumped, breakups are becoming all too familiar until a deep strangers voice appears on the end of her phone. A blind date is one thing but being set up with a prostitute is another. Sex is guaranteed, but what about love? - CAPTAIN SWAN AND SMUT / STRIPPER!KILLIAN /
1. Chapter 1

_**I haven't written fanfiction in over a year but I decided to jump back on the bandwagon and write some more! I appreciate if chapter 1 is a bit dry and crap, but once I get into it, I'm sure it'll get a lot better! Please fav,read,review and lastly enjoy! Enjoy the beauty of Captain Swan at least 3**_

It was always going to end like this really; I didn't expect anything other than ending up by myself again. It was inevitable, I mean I'm fine which really suggests something about my character don't you think?

It was never love, I never felt any feelings. I never felt that cliché butterfly in the stomach feeling you're meant to when you're around them. Like fucking hell, why can't I just turn it on?

Being dumped does suck, but suddenly I've travelled from the street corner outside a smoke shop (classy place to dump someone, I know – I'm lucky) to my apartment in Boston and I'm shoveling cinnamon chocolate ice cream into my mouth like tomorrow and my diet, doesn't exist.

I call this phase one of being let down. It's before the tears and the wine, and the rum and the vodka and the mixing of the rum with the vodka. Phase two is messy. It's once involved me waking up at four in the morning with bran flakes stuck to my face and 'WHY DOESN'T HE LOVE ME' scrawled over the bedroom wall in eyeliner. Phase two is the low point, and involves a lot of cleaning the morning after. It's sort of like a one night stand without the sex and the pleasure; actually it's nothing like a one night stand at all. More like a drunken night out with Ruby.

I feel my glaze over as I reach for the red wine, abandoning the glass and let the burning liquid sooth my heart, which I admit is starting to feel phase two feeling pretty strong.

One of the few good things about being with Graham, before he dumped me on my ass of course. Graham was actually pretty perfect; he was a cop, had that charming Irish drawl and had a knack of making me feel quite special. Attractive on every level, he was model good looking, but now I'm realising it's a problem when you're boyfriend has better hair than you.

You see, I Emma Swan, am lacking in the commitment department. Graham was perfect, but don't you need to be perfect yourself to be with someone who strangers on the street would give a solid 10 to. I'm more of a 5, maybe a solid 6. Long Blonde hair, black tank top and rose brown leather jacket classifies as a solid Swan look. Smart but severe. Like Ruby says: my looks match my personality.

I put the now half empty bottle of red down and glare around the apartment. Not very homely for someone that's been occupying it for some time now. To think that Graham was going to move in. A quick smile crosses my face. Stone white walls, smart brown leather couches, a kitchen that's cooked nothing more than a bowl of cereal. I could never picture us together.

Looking down and stroking the soft cotton throw, we could have never sprawled across this couch with hands intertwined and watched crappy old black and white movies. No, Graham was into action and fast pace. He was a huntsman, and I was more of a deer ready to be shot. I couldn't live up to whatever shitty expectation of a perfect girlfriend he had. Thinking about it more and more I never once felt anything.

I'm not a chronic bitch face, I'm just honest.

I'm suddenly jolted out of position. The tune of some trap song Ruby has set my phone to blasts out across the dark empty apartment. No caller ID. I sit there and don't pick up, I'm too bitter to answer the phone right now, I'll probably snap and I think I'm also slightly intoxicated given than now the wine bottle appears to be empty. Fucking Graham. He doesn't even have the decency to call me.

'Hey it's Emma here, leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible, thanks' I hear my own voice and then it goes to answer phone.

A husky deep voice now fills the room as I manoeuvre the phone closer to my ears. 'Love it's Hook, I'm just calling to say that – bloody hell Lacey shut up I'm on the phone to a fucking client.' The deep voice pauses, heavy breathing follows. I stare at the phone slightly mesmerised. 'Sorry erm- I'm just wondering if you're still coming for your appointment, got some new moves to try out on you and this guy needs some action if you get what I mean.' The voice laughs, the boom so deep it makes me feel almost warm. 'So yes, come down the Jolly Rodger in half an hour if you haven't backed out, I'm sure you haven't, not that I've ever seen you of course..it's first session but erm- I'm going to shut the fuck up now. Bye'

The voice ends the call. Getting up, I walk over to the kitchen, the tiles cold on my bare feet contemplating what just happened. Prostitute? Hooker? Drunk idiot? The wine pours itself and I'm drinking out of the bottle yet again. But the deep voice is still ringing through my ears. I shouldn't be thinking about this, I shouldn't have another man's voice in my head. I should be throwing glass on the floor and drunk dialling Graham whilst screaming over 'The Notebook'. But there's something that I can't put into words. Curiosity, I guess.

'Come down the Jolly Rodger' I reach over to the kitchen table and grab my laptop, within a few clicks, or actually quite a lot because drunk typing is actually pretty hard – I'm on google.

tje jolly roodger bostonn

I quickly press enter and look at the search results, nothing.

My heart sinks, I don't know what I was expecting but I didn't think I would actually feel disappointed. It's not like I am the sort of person to go down to a strip club, or any club of that matter. LET ALONE follow instructions from creepy British guy that appeared down the end of my phone just 5 minutes ago. I feel my cheeks flush red.

As I close my laptop screen, my eyes just glace over the words 'strip' 'bar' and 'rendez vous'. I breathe in and open the lid and there it is.

'Jolly Rodger – strip club and bar, Boston's most worst kept secret.' I piece the words together before I have a chance to process everything but. He was fucking legit. I'm fucking involved in some sex appointment. Things like this do not happen to people like me. I am not sexual I am not the dark and mysterious type. I am bold and brash and fuck people that I've had a few dates with. Not British guys that 'wants to try out NEW MOVES.'

My phone lights up again, I widen my eyes and expect no caller ID but it's Ruby. Oh fuck. I clasp my hands over my mouth. Ruby will want to know, she will know something is up.

'Emma!' Her perky voice shrills through the phone.

'Ruby, hey, Graham and I broke up.' I hear myself say, in a happier voice than I expect. I look over at my laptop screen, the Jolly Rodger website glares back at me.

'I know honey! He updated his Facebook profile, that guy knows how to move on fast!' She says. 'He's a dick babe don't worry about him, he's too perfect for you.'

I'm used to these backhanded compliments so I take it without complaining. 'Ruby something just happened.' I break off and take another deep swig of wine.

'What babe?' she utters.

'Some guy called 'Hook' just called me and said he's waiting for me to come to his appointment at the Jolly Rodger.' I pause expecting her to react. 'So I googled it and it's a fucking strip club!'

She doesn't say anything but I can hear laughter erupt from the other end of the phone.

'Surprise!' She replies, her voice so high from laughing it's hard to understand.

'What the actual fuck Ruby.' I look around in shock. 'You arranged this whole thing?!' I try to formulate my words but so much excitement is bubbling up in my stomach it's hard to suppress.

'Yes, take it from me Emma, you need to have a good time.' She says neutrally.

'So you set me up with a prostitute.' I close the laptop screen.

'A VERY nice prostitute!' She laughs 'Well I've heard he's nice the club is really clean and let's just say I've been there and it's an - experience.' She erupts into a fit of laughter again.

I walk over to my bedroom and turn on the light; I open the closet door and pick out a black dress. I take the phone away from my ear, 10:34pm.

'Emma, you have to go!' I hear the phone say, 'You need to go meet you're prince charming, well a tall dark handsome one. And don't worry I've paid in advance for you!'

'And that makes it all ok.' I sarcastically offer whilst applying black kohl to my eyes.

'So you're actually going!' She squeals.

'I sense your shock, yes Ruby I am.' I put down the phone and look in the mirror. I push up my hair and brush down my front. I summon all the strength I possess. 'I'm going to go fuck a stranger.'


	2. Chapter 2

_**I decided to do two chapters tonight, since Killian isn't the first chapter I HAD to write C2 today! Kinda semi smut ahead, full smut next chapter promise! Read, fav, review, follow and ENJOY! :)**_

I can feel my heart beating solidly under my brown leather jacket. I had to put the jacket on. No question, it was for comfort purposes. And at this very moment in time I need comfort to protect me from the very comfort zone I am fleeing.

The recurring thought running through my head is 'why'. Why am I doing this? Am I trying to prove something? To me? To Graham? To prove I'm better than Graham? The bottle of wine I've consumed is making matters worse, jumbling thoughts in my head and blurring reality and fantasy.

Downtown Boston is cold and dark, the street lamps are dimly lit and the heady smell of alcohol and cocaine is filling my head. It's most definitely matching to my own idea of a strip club, but I guess people come here if they don't want to be followed. The street is narrow and covered with damp and torn posters. I look down as one attaches itself to my heel. The Jolly Rodger is scrawled across in faded red; I guess I am getting closer, I breathe in, feeling my heartbeat rise just a tiny bit more.

The air is cloying however the sky is completely clear, I look up and to my surprise see stars shining back down at me. I feel the cold breeze against my face, the feeling of my cheeks turning a blushing pink. I continue walking in silence, the only noise coming from my heels clicking against the pavement.

After 2 more minutes of cautiousness I reach a small row of houses and shops, a tattoo parlour. A run down looking laundrette and of course here it is in all it's glory. The Jolly Rodger. Considering its location it's not too run down. The outside is pealing with black paint and the sign is flickering with red light. The thumping of music travels out the door, the atmosphere fills me with relief if that's possible. I'm not in an abandoned house, I'm not being set up for murder, or- something that isn't what I'm about to do. Oh fucking god what am I doing?

I readjust my hair and I push open the heavy wooden door. I am taken back by the warmth I am greeted with, the temperature is hot, the lights are humming against my skin, and the music is buzzing against my ears. I am suddenly not scared at all.

Bailbonds requires me to act confident in any situation, if I keep control and turn this into a game; I it can be fun. I can be a dirty, filthy woman; get rid of Graham from my head, for a few hours turn into someone else. Forget about insecure Emma Swan, that just ate a whole tub of cinnamon ice cream and shit cheap red wine. Be someone's mistress, or someone that craves warm, delicious sex.

I take off my jacket and swing it across my back; I stride up to the bar which is in the nearest corner to me opposite the stage, the stage being the essential part of the strip club, again lit with faded red light, giving a simmering glow across the floor, surrounding the small tables with men and women nursing drinks.

The bar itself is shabby but has charm, it's scattered with light candles and tall glasses, the place looking somewhere where you order a straight vodka instead of asking for the wine list. A tall skinny man wearing a black shirt, open two buttons down, makes eye contact with me; he winks and grabs a glass.

'A vodka for the pretty lady.' He smiles and slides the glass of liquid across the counter. 'Your first time here?'

I grab the drink and look up at him. He has thick brown hair fashioned into a quiff and ash coloured eyes, actually sort of pretty. He moves towards the drinks and more of his chest is revealed, brightly coloured tattoos pop off his pale white skin.

'Yes, I've actually got an appointment.' I smile, holding the vodka in my hand, appreciating his attention.

'Oh, I see!' He laughs 'Well you came to the right place.' He winks again. 'Who with?'

'Hook?' I drain the vodka in one go, wincing at the heat pummelling down my throat, it's a nice burning to numb the anxiety that suddenly arose from uttering his name.

'Ah Hook, you're in for a treat.' He looks over to the opposite end of the bar. 'One second lovely.' He walks over and starts a group of bulky men wearing sleeves of tattoos; unlike the boy they're faded and old. I smile to myself: this is what I expected from a place like this.

He walks back over and draws up a stool. 'I'm Jefferson.' He looks at me.

'I'm Emma.' I smile and pass him back the glass. 'It's not quite what I expected, here I mean, this place.' I slide out a stool and sit down.

'I know what you mean.' He glances over to the stage. A girl is on the pole, sliding up and down, wearing next to nothing, a red bralet and matching panties. The music is soft but heavy, the atmosphere is thick and heavy with lust. The tattooed men slide dollars into her cleavage. I look back to Jefferson. 'It's nice here, it's sort of hard to describe.' He slides me another vodka.

'Why do you keep giving me drinks?' I bite my lip 'Am I that irresistible?' I play on my character, trying to squash the small remaining worry in the pit of my stomach.

'You're a woman.' He plays with his hair. 'I like to please, what can I say.' He looks at a door over the far side of the room, lit above with a yellow lantern. 'It looks like Hook is ready for you- Miss Emma.' He finishes.

I follow his gaze and down the rest of the vodka. 'Thanks for the drinks.' I get up and look back at the bar.

'Enjoy.' The boy says as he gives a smile, turning back to serve more gathering customers.

I stride over to the illuminated door; I take a deep breath and open it. The sudden smell of aftershave and salt overcome me. The room is dark apart from a few lit candles huddled in the corner. And that's when I hear the voice, warm and familiar even though I only heard it for the first time an hour ago.

'So you're the famous Emma.' The British accent is deeper than it was on the phone, I turn around to try and find the owners face. 'I'm over here love.'

I stop and stare. Although the lighting is dim, I can make out all that needs to be made out. A man of about 6' is stood leaning against the door frame. His limbs are long and I'm not sure if it's possible but his voice matches his appearance. His eyes are vivid blue, surrounded with just a touch of black kohl, his eyebrows so telling. His hair is thick rick brown; his stubble is rough and surrounds his peach lips worn in a smirk. He wears a black waistcoat made out of something thick, possibly leather. I believe he is the sort of person that is rough, not classically perfect, but lustful and warm, he just screams 'fuck me'.

'Yes, and you must be Hook.' I smirk. 'Is that actually a real name?' I stand taking in the tension in the air, the candles burning brightly, emitting comfortable warmth.

He gets off the wooden frame and walks towards me slowly; I catch a smell of salt spray. 'I let my clients believe that, but Miss Swan you're a bit different.' He walks behind me and his hand grazes my shoulder. I feel a burst of unexpected electricity run through my arm.

'I'm special.' I turn round and begin to walk towards him. I flick my hair over behind my shoulders. Making sure I show off my collar bones, my skin. I grab both of his shoulders and pull towards him.

'Aye, indeed you are.' He breathes in heavily. Our faces merely centimetres apart. The tension unbearable. He pauses and stares into my eyes. I stay connected to the bold blue and don't need to look away, all I want in this moment is blue, and all I want in this moment is him. 'Ready.' He whispers, titling his head to align with my neck.

'Yes' I breathe in. My legs feeling weak with lust.

He starts on my neck and my knees almost give way with delight, he kisses roughly emitting moans as his works his way down. I grab his hair and my hands work their way down to his ass. I give a squeeze and he lets out a larger moan. Within seconds my dress is pulled down to my knees and his black jeans are discarded on the floor.

He breaks away, his hands now places on my back, the clasp undoes itself and he is there cupping my breasts, his fingers circling my nipples as his gestures me onto the bed in the middle of the room. I grab his bulge now very prominent from his boxers; I give it a squeeze whilst I work on his neck as he sucks my nipples. We both give faint moans in unison.

'Swan.' He whispers in my ear. He grabs my shoulders and I look up staring back into the blue. He leans in, this time the tension is different. It's not lustful anymore, this is desire. He runs his finger over my lips and I lean in. Our lips meet, unlike the previous few minutes it's slow but just as comfortable as before. I feel a spread of warmth through my upper body and suddenly my stomach is filled with a fluttering sensation.

He pulls away and stares at me again. He takes a strand of my hair and tucks it behind my eye. Not losing eye contact once, my lips still warm from his own mouth, the taste of the sea on my tongue. 'Killian' he murmurs 'My real name is Killian.'


	3. Chapter 3

_**I tried smut, I really don't know if it's good/bad/really bad - so please don't feel afraid to review and tell me how it was! Also thank you so much for all the views for previous chapters. Makes me so so happy! Fav, review, follow AND ENJOY :)**_

'Killian.' I utter back to the tall dark stranger.

It feels right, and it feels like it belongs to him. Suddenly I forget about the promised sex and just look at his face. The warmth of the candles, still glowing with faded yellow light, half his face in shadow the other half illuminated. I forget about the tension and almost feel my hands start to tremble.

'Swan?' He slowly raises one of his arms; his palm connects with my own hooked around his neck. His skin is hot with previous passion; just the very gesture of his hand touching my own soothes me.

I look down and feel my cheeks burning. I look up again managing a small meek smile. 'So is this what you do with all your clients?'

He tightens his grip on my hand and gives a small laugh, his cornflower blue eyes crinkle around the edges. 'Aye.'

I usually find silences intimidating and uncomfortable, but just looking at his face makes it somehow different, he strokes the tips of my fingers and I feel the strong gaze staring into my own eyes. The room is still dark and mysterious, it's meant for strong passionate lustful sex, but instead I'm standing in the middle of the room with my hands intertwined with the man that's meant to seduce me. His chest is bare apart from scattering of thick brown hair that gently presses against my breasts. I simply can't pull away; this moment is so exact, so right. I feel like if I move a single muscle the warmth will be destroyed and the last 10 minutes will be shattered.

His deep voice hums against my neck. 'We haven't even fucked yet Swan.' He whispers 'And yet if I compare this moment to others, I feel like I've come about seven times.' He pulls away slightly so I can see his dancing eyes. He laughs; I feel his chest move under mine.

'Master of sex and words I see.' I take my free hand and place it on his chest, moving it towards the position of his heart.

He slowly moves away, sits on the bed, resting casually as far as the wooden headboard; surrounded in red velvet cushions. He takes off his boxers, his dick semi-hard. I don't know where to look for a second but then I realise the only place I need to be looking is his crotch. No denying it: he's huge. I feel the atmosphere change from light to stormy dark. This time I feel hungry. Tingling runs up by bare spine.

He reads my mind as I hear his husky voice summon. 'Now fuck me properly.'

Seductively as possible I sander over to the dark rich wooden bed, a silk burgundy sheet lies on top of the mattress. I climb aboard, getting on all fours, making sure I arch my back and squeeze my ass tight, never leaving his intense expressive face. I feel a rush of pride, he's captivated.

On my knees I reach his side, I stay kneeling waiting for the strangers instructions.

'Now listen Swan, that was just a warm up. You came here for sex. I run this for sex. And love, let me tell you.' He gives a small laugh, raising his finger to my chin. 'You are going to get your money's worth.'

I begin to reach for the inside of his legs, before he quickly bats me away. I look up again at his face. Unlike before he is straight faced, his jaw is sharp with instruction.

'One condition lass, you do whatever I tell you to do, this is my room and therefore I am in control, you will obey every command I tell you, follow every instruction. If I say suck my dick, you suck my dick.' His blue eyes begin to sparkle again, he winks. 'Understand Swan?'

I feel warmth starting to appear around the inside of my legs, my nipples begin to harden. He is in control, full control. And somehow I am completely ready to let go and immerse myself. I hear my voice whisper seductively. 'Yes Hook.'

'Now suck my cock.' He whispers into my ear. My knees buckle and I shift backwards, pushing my tumbling blonde hair out of my face, making sure never to break eye contact. Not that that's possible. The brunette's eyes drilled into my own.

Like acknowledged earlier, he is huge, I take just a few seconds to look at what's in front of me. He is half hard and before I know it the head is inside my mouth, I hear a faint whisper of pleasure. I look up his face showing appreciation for what's about to come.

Beginning to gently suck, I start at a slow pace, my mind wondering just how many times a day he gets this treatment. How many countless blow jobs must he ... endure. Shit, I've got a lot to live up to.

I bob up and down gradually starting to speed up, with a few tries I manage to get his whole cock in my mouth, using my hands to play with his balls. Moans are flowing from his mouth; I feel his hands splay around the sheets as he grabs them.

'Swan…he sighs breathlessly.' I flick my eyes up, his head is back against the headboard and his eyes are shut, I feel a puddle of wetness coming from the inside of my legs. The only thing I'm craving in these minutes are his dick inside me, I want him to lick me out, to fuck me from behind. I want to be part of him, be with him. Aggressively slam him onto the bottom whilst I ride him moving backwards and forwards at a face uncontrollable pace.

'You're so fucking hot.' I murmur. His eyes open, his mouth forms a smile as I run my fingers across his slit. His smile widens, a deep long moan follows. His cock leaking pre-cum, I make sure I suck it up.

'Bloody hell lass.' He groans, running his fingers through his chocolate hair in distress. He thrusts his groin forward in hunger. I oblige and go back for more. I run my tongue down the base of his dick and swirl it around in a circular motion. Continuing to look up at his expression, gaging how well I'm doing, searching for approval.

'Fuuuuuuk.' He screams repeatedly as I continue to suck, this time at a sensational pace, bobbing up and down and using my fingers to play with all his length. My breasts swaying in all directions, his hands now placed on my head forcing me in for more.

Not soon after he comes, his hips jerk up suddenly, his skin hot to my touch. His chest furiously moving up and down due to his heavy breathing.

'Swan, I need to be inside you.' He whispers once he gains control again. I finish my task and suck up the creamy white cum that's left a trail all over the sheets. He quickly rises from his position against the headboard and plays around in an open side draw, rummaging for what looks like a condom.

'Now I'm going to give you the pleasure as that was bloody good.' He winds his fingers lightly around my nipples, his head around my neck. I feel his warm breath as my hairs stand on end. I give a silent moan as his nibbles my ear lobe. 'What do you want done Swan? Are you wet for me?'

With one arm I reach for his head and pull it into view, his blue eyes dancing in arousal. I shimmy back against the wall and spread my legs wide. I grab his hand and direct it towards my opening. His fingers waste no time in entering, he gently swirls them around and I feel myself give a moan of pleasure. 'Swan you're fucking soaking.' He curses, whilst continuing to swirl his fingers, adding in a third causing me to scream in delight.

'Eat me out.' I manage to summon in between the moans. 'Eat me out Killian.' He rearranges himself on the bed, not leaving eye contact for a split second, his eyebrows furrow in concentration. He starts to lick round my clit, still soaking from giving head. I place my hands on his head, allowing him to put on more pressure. I hear an approving grunt as I throw my head back and give a long breathless moan.

'Fucking hell, you're amazing.' I shout my eyes catch sight of the candles, still burning brightly shedding golden intense light around the room, the light hitting Killian's head, spotlighting him. Like a cat his tongue gives little strokes around my opening and he starts to place tiny kisses around the inside of my thighs. Each individual kiss tickling my skin feeling like little sparks from a fire, embers of red, amber and yellow.

I'm almost near the edge when he pulls away, giving him a quizzical look, the man winks at me. 'Not going to let you finish that early Swan.' He licks his lips. 'I'm not done with you yet.' I stare at him, his rough brown hair is messy, and his eyes are glittering azure. 'I have to have you inside me.' He finishes. He sprawls backwards across the sheets and gestures towards his cock with his hands.

'I have to say your re-start time is impressive.' As I look at his semi.

The stripper gives a small laugh before reaching for my hand. 'Ride me love.' He orders, before cupping my breasts as I lean forward, giving both of them a hard squeeze.

Breathing in a deep sigh I crawl towards him and quickly mount him. It's a calming feeling when we both sigh in unison, his moan is deep and husky like his voice, whereas mine is rather quiet but deep down in my stomach it churns, craving more. I manage to fill every inch of his length, whilst I begin to ride; he continues to play with my breasts, sucking around my nipples. Grating against them with his teeth, making me shiver.

Trying to vary the pace is hard when you've got such an passionate lover inside you, all I want to do is fucking ride him and go as fast an humanly possible. But I need to make sure I don't indulge him too much, make sure he savours it. I want to reach tipping point at the same time as him.

'I don't care what you're doing darling, just fuck me harder.' He pants 'I know you want to.'

I start to fuck him harder than before, his cock filling me entirely, the flood of pre-cum making it impossible to go slow. He moves on from my nipples onto my neck, like the kisses on my thighs he repeats it on my neck, butterfly kisses all the way up from my chest to my lips. Looking directly at me with his piercing gaze, I'm almost distracted from the task in hand. His hands play with my overflowing clit, rubbing vigorously as I continue to ride at an overwhelming rate. The friction tips me over the edge. And it seems he follows shortly after. The room is filled with a loud sound of pleasure; I tip my head back to savour the moment. But his hand stops me.

Burning hot hands wrapped around my face, whimpering and panting follow as he begins to lean in. I gasp in surprise as his stubble scratches my skin. His lips salty and full. I close my eyes and meet him, making sure to take in every single fucking second.

After what seems about 5 minutes of pure intimacy, he pulls away, keeping his hand resting on my bare shoulder, mine resting on his warm chest. He begins to formulate a sentence but pauses momentarily. Instead his fingers dance their way up to my mouth, before he whispers.

'Time's up Swan.'


End file.
